


And So You Should

by Hanschenrealhoe



Series: this is halloween [1]
Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Fluff, Halloween, Highschool AU, I havent slept in a week, M/M, Modern Setting, The whole gang is here, because im awful, but oh well, ernst is sandy, grease au is so overused, hanschen is danny, hernst is the main ship, i am trash, im so trash, muted melchiritz and wendilse, woybr but gayer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 05:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11051862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanschenrealhoe/pseuds/Hanschenrealhoe
Summary: Ernst is a sophomore with a huge crush on one Hanschen. There is a school Halloween dance party and he's nervous about going in a...provocative genderbent catsuit!Sandy. But he doesn't expect Hanschen to be dressed as Danny. He doesn't expect to sing a duet with Hanschen. Most of all, he doesn't expect Hanschen to be so caring. But all of this happens. What comes next?





	1. A moment you'll never remember

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: FOR MY SERIES FOR THIS NIGHT, FROM NOW ON MORITZ IS RIZZO. I'M SORRY FOR THE CHANGE. IT HAD TO HAPPEN FOR THIS SERIES TO WORK OUT. SO FROM NOW ON, MORITZ IS RIZZO AND ILSE IS FRENCHY.

Ernst Robel stood in front of the mirror, getting ready for the upcoming costume party. He was dressed as a genderbent Sandy Olsen and stood next to Ilse, Wendla, and a few other giggling girls. Ernst and Moritz were outnumbered with girls in Wendla’s friend group, but he didn’t mind it much. They were the kindest people he’d ever met, much nicer than the other boys in his class. He found all of them irritating, minus Moritz of course. All they did was make inappropriate noises and jokes to the girls. But back to right now, Ernst was deeply embarrassed. He was wearing tight skinny jeans, a black shirt with a too-deep v-neck, and a bulky leather jacket with the word “Sandy” stitched on the breast. Ilse had greased his hair back beyond recognition. Wendla was Jan, Moritz was Frenchy, Martha was Marty, and Ilse was Rizzo. They had added in Thea and Anna as two random Pink Ladies, but they would meet up with Wendla at the party, as they were already cramming more people than legal in Ilse’s car. Wendla and Ilse had spent almost all night creating their group costume. And it paid off, Ernst thought; despite everything, they looked good. Martha looked at her leather watch.  
“We’re gonna be late!” She exclaimed, running toward her jacket. Panic ensued and suddenly there was a flock of costumed sophomores running through Ernst’s otherwise empty house. They piled into Ilse’s black mini-cooper. Ilse was a year older than everyone because she started school a year late. Which meant that if they needed a ride, they went right to Ilse. Wendla sat shotgun with Ilse and Moritz, Ernst, and Martha squeezed in the back. Ilse thankfully kept her car clean, other than some sketchbooks crammed in the pockets behind the driver and passenger seats. Ernst and Moritz had Martha squished between them, seeing as both boys had hit nearly six feet tall already despite their relatively younger age. Ilse turned the keys, starting the car as Wendla manned the radio. She jammed the aux cord in her Samsung and cranked up the volume to full blast. It was the Rent soundtrack. Out tonight blasted from the speakers. More specifically, the Rosario Dawson movie version because that was Wendla’s favorite version.  
“What’s the time?!” Ilse shouted, beginning the song. Ilse knew the whole song, every note and consonant front and back. She loved demonstrating this talent to her friends. Often. Everyone joined in seconds later as the streets flew by on their way to the school Halloween costume party. Everyone and no one noticed how Ilse looked at Wendla in between verses and everyone and no one noticed how Wendla’s eyes never left Ilse either. But no one commented. You could feel the excitement buzzing through their veins like adrenaline. Ernst was nervous though. He knew his crush would be there and he knew he looked ridiculous. But he was going to have fun tonight, he’d decided. He wouldn’t spend the whole dance worrying about Hanschen and what he thought of him. Just as he’d came upon this epiphany, Ilse pulled into the parking lot of the school and everyone fell out of the car, still humming Rent and tapping along with their feet on the pavement. They probably looked drunk. They followed the steady stream of students into the school. The autumn air clung to their cheeks and the tight knit group of friends shivered and grouped closer together as they entered the school. Just their luck, they were stuck behind Melchior Gabor and his friends in the line to get into the gym. Moritz was caught staring at Melchior as he gave Georg a noogie. Georg clung to his large round glasses and stifled a laugh.   
“He’s not worth it, Moritz. He only cares about screwing the system and sleeping in class,” Ernst whispered, only half joking. Moritz jumped at the notion, running his fingers through his unruly hair.  
“What, no-- it’s nothing. Anyway someone like that would never notice me.” Moritz sighed, continuing to run his fingers through his hair, then knotting it in his hand at the top. Ernst glanced at Hanschen Rilow, who was leaning against a pillar while waiting in line. He had a confidence and swagger about him. It drew tons of girls to him, but he had a way about him that no straight man could ever muster, or so Ernst hoped. But still, Ernst knew he was way out of Hanschen’s league.   
“I know the feeling,” Ernst replied. Just before slinking off into the gym, Hanschen made eye contact with Ernst for a few seconds, accompanied by a wink that left Ernst a pile of putty and overwhelming gayness. And just like a cat, Hanschen disappeared. Ernst was snapped out of his state of dreaminess by Ilse.  
“It’s your turn to pay, Ernst,” she said with a nudge. He dug into his jacket pocket and tossed a ten dollar bill onto the table. The teen behind the table snapped her gum and nodded, permitting Ernst access to the dance. He walked into the gym and was bombarded with the smell of popcorn and the sound of music coming from the speakers. Ilse and Wendla immediately grabbed hands and went off to dance. Moritz, too socially awkward to carry on a conversation, walked over to a corner and opened a book. This left only Martha and Ernst, who weren’t really all that close, and were eager to part ways. Ernst took in the scenery. There was pulsing pop music coming from the speakers and popcorn on the floor. SInce Ernst went to an old private school, they had a separate room for parties that they were currently occupying and it was covered in cheesy decorations. The majority of the floor was filled with hormones and teens not-so-subtly grinding against each other. Ernst made his way over to the punch table and poured himself a cup. He smelled the alcohol in it and saw a glass bottle hidden behind the dispenser, but took a sip anyway and immediately felt better. He was too afraid to get drunk, telling himself that this cup would be his last. But because he was parched, he downed the spiked punch and filled up another cup.  
“Hey there handsome,” said Hanschen, bending over to pour himself some punch. Ernst tried not to notice that Hanschen had leaned forward at the waist, giving Ernst a good view of his ass. Despite the poor lighting, Ernst got a good look at his costume, as well, and nearly gasped. Judging by the leather jacket with T-Birds stitched to the back, tight black pants, and greased back hair, he was a Greaser. More specifically, Danny Zuko, as the stitching on his jacket read. “What are the chances, Sandy?” Hanschen gave Ernst a small nudge.  
“God this outfit was a mistake. I should have come as anyone but Sandy,” Ernst thought. Except out loud, only realizing this after he’d said it. Ernst cupped his hands over his mouth. Hanschen looked hurt, but masked it quickly with a smirk.  
“Wow, Sandy. Why would you think like that? I expected better from you” Hanschen cooed. Ernst blushed, hoping the strobe lights covered it. So far his conversation skills were seriously lacking. “Either way, I gotta go babysit Melchior so he doesn’t make any bad decisions. See you around.” Then he left, with a pout and another wink. Ernst stood in place for longer than he should, staring at Hanschen’s disappearing figure, begging him to come back, longing for their conversation to return. He didn’t know how long he stood there, but a girl dressed as a slutty zombie snapped him out of it.  
“Dude, you gonna stand there forever?” she snapped, eyeing the punch bowl. He nearly jumped; he had been so transfixed in Hanschen’s presence he had forgotten to move out of the way.  
“Sorry,” he whispered, walking away from the glass bowl. He decided to go find Moritz, knowing Ilse and Wedla were probably lost in a mob of teens on the dance floor. It was difficult elbowing his way through the crowd of sweaty high-schoolers, but soon enough, he found his way back to Moritz’s corner. To his surprise, Wendla and Ilse were already over next to him.  
“Hey,” he called to the group. Moritz gave a nod and returned to his book, while the girls gave him mixed greetings. As soon as Ilse saw Ernst, she motioned him off to the side. When they were out of earshot from their friend group, Ilse turned to him.  
“You have a crush on Hanschen,” she stated matter-of-factly.  
“What!” he exclaimed. He’d always thought he wasn’t that obvious about it.   
“I sit behind you in Latin. Literally all you do is stare at him,” she stated. And this was true. Ernst was sat near Hanschen and he couldn’t help but admire his beauty. Feeling his cheeks go red, he covered his face with his hands and sighed.  
“That’s not true,” he said anyway. But Ilse knew. She always saw right through him. She put her hands on her hips and gave him a stern look. “Fine, okay, I like him. Am I that obvious?” She nodded with a smug face.  
“And I happen to know that he likes you back,” she said. Ernst stared at her in disbelief. There was no way.  
“No way. I mean, I doubt he knows my name,” he said, recalling how Hanschen had called him Sandy instead of Ernst.  
“He looks at you during class, too. Same puppy-dog eyes you use. Just in those few moments you aren’t gawking at him,” she stated. This was too much. There was no way Hanschen could like someone like him. He’d just about had enough of this conversation when Ilse looked at the time on her phone.  
“Damn it. Be right back. But we will continue this conversation later,” she said, pointing her finger in his face. She turned on her heel and marched her way into the crowd. Moments later she was on stage with a microphone.  
“Karaoke challenge! Pick a song, or let us pick one for you, and compete in a duet for a prize. The winning group gets fifty dollars to split! Good luck,” she said. The crowd cheered and a group of students began pushing their way to the signup sheet backstage. Ernst got excited. He thought that he was a good singer and desperately wanted to avoid Ilse. So why not try to earn some money? He let the crowd absorb him as he made his way to the front. After elbowing his way through the students once again, he closed the curtain leading to backstage behind him and stood in line to sign up. Surprisingly, there was quite the line and he stood there for the better part of five minutes while waiting his turn. When he got to the signup sheet, he realized that he didn’t have a partner to sing the duet with and hoped that they would just pair him up. Couples and friends alike sang songs from broadway to pop to rap. Most people were pretty terrible, but some made him nervous. Ernst was surprised to see Moritz sing a song with Melchior. Moritz was smiling happier than he’d ever seen and Ernst was excited for him. Slowly, his song got closer and closer until he was next. He took a deep breath and grabbed a mic from the stand. The last act before him wished him luck as they walked off. He gave the passing group a nod and walked on stage to find it empty. The screen stated that he was going to be singing You’re the One That I Want from Grease, but that needed to be a duet. He hoped someone would get matched up with him, or else it would just be awkward. The music began to play and suddenly he heard an unmistakable voice behind him.   
“I got chills, they’re multiplyin’, and I’m losing control. Cause the power you’re supplying, it’s electrifying,” Hanschen Rilow began to sing. He was surprisingly good. His voice was charming and raspy and reminded him of Danny Zuko himself. With a nervous voice, Ernst began.   
“You better shape up, cause I need a man, and my heart is set on you,” He sang honestly to Hanschen. And as they continued with the song, he hoped that Hanschen was singing honestly back to him. It was beautiful. Even without sheet music, the song pulsed through his veins until the very last verses. Most of the song was on pitch and in tune and their voices were steady and even, going perfectly together. Ernst and Hanschen danced around the stage, slowly getting closer and closer, unintentionally.   
“You’re the one that I want!” they finished, with less than a foot separating them. Ernst’s chest was heaving, so was Hanschen’s. For a moment, the crowd disappeared. Ernst shut his eyes and leaned in to kiss him when the crowd roared to life, bringing Ernst back. He assessed the situation and began feeling the embarrassment. And before he knew what was happening, he ran.


	2. A night you'll never forget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what happens after chapter one. what do you expect? Also the panic attack experience is my own experience sorry if you don't relate to it.

Ernst ran out of the gym and down the hallway until he ended up at the top of a staircase, his footsteps echoing down the hallway like gunshots. His stomach clenched and his throat closed. He’d had panic attacks before and frequently. He should have gotten used to them by now, but they seemed to get more and more awful as time went on. His hands trembled, no, vibrated. He shuddered as goosebumps formed along his arms. He could feel cold sweat seizing his scalp. His mind went blank and raced at the same time. He wanted to throw up and cry but no tears would come and God forbid he throw up in the middle of the staircase. Quiet sobs escaped his throat. He didn’t know why he was having a panic attack. Hadn’t he just gotten what he wanted? He hated himself for making a scene. Ernst wanted to crawl in a hole and wait for his panic attack to secede. He sat there for nearly ten minutes, staring at a scuff on his shoe and waited for his breath to even out, though it didn’t seem to want to. His mind caved and even in the empty hall he felt claustrophobic. He rocked back and forth, now in a state of loud sobbing. Ernst hated his panic attacks, especially since they lasted for as long as twenty minutes. Twenty minutes of his brain on autopilot, where the walls caved in and he couldn’t move. Ernst shoved his head in his folded arms and almost didn’t hear the sound of shoes clicking on the floor, getting louder and louder and eventually shuffling up the stairs. He didn’t even raise his head until the familiar smell of cologne and lemons appeared next to him.  
“Ernst?” said Hanschen. “Are you okay? God, what happened?” Hanschen ran up the last few steps and sat too close to Ernst. Ernst lifted his head, still heaving, still shuddering, his panic attack in full force as he studied Hanschen’s features. He had icy blue eyes and shining blond hair. There was a crease between his eyebrows, and Ernst hated himself for putting it there.  
“S-sorry,” Ernst stuttered. Hanschen pushed his eyebrows even closer together.  
“Don’t apologize, Ernst. Not for something you can’t help,” Hanschen said quietly, pulling Ernst into a hug. Hanschen rested his chin on Ernst’s head and rubbed circles on his back, which was an awkward position for the much taller Ernst, but Ernst couldn’t complain. His face was pressed into Hanschen’s jacket and he quietly sobbed. Why was he sobbing? He liked Hanschen. Almost loved him. They had just sang a perfect song. Why was he so useless? “Hey, hey it’s okay. Can I do anything to help?” Ernst shook his head and gulped, then looked up at Hanschen and took a deep breath. Hanschen smiled and brushed a flock of hair out of Ernst’s eyes. Ernst relaxed in Hanschen’s grip and set his head on his lap, closing his eyes.   
“If it means anything,” Hanschen whispered, his hand still resting on Ernst’s chest, “We won the prize.” Ernst coughed out a laugh. That was not what he cared about, but Hanschen’s voice was just what he needed to hear. Hanschen shifted about, pulling a twenty and a five out of his pocket and tucking it into Ernst’s limp palm. Ernst, feeling better after fifteen minutes of panic, sat up and put the bills in his small skinny jeans pocket.   
Ernst quietly thanked Hanschen for helping him through his panic attack and Hanschen gave him another weak hug. Ernst put his chin on his folded arms and stared down the stairs. They sat there for a bit, just being in each other's presence.   
“What do you want to do when you grow up, Ernst?” Hanschen spoke quietly, wanting to break the silence.  
“What?” Ernst exclaimed, confused. Hanschen just cocked an eyebrow and nodded, waiting for an answer. “Um, a teacher, I guess. That would be nice I think, I’d get to teach kids, give them the support their parents never gave them.” Hanschen snickered.   
“You can’t be serious,” Hanschen smirked, moving his face toward Ernst's. Before Ernst could reply, Hanschen’s mouth was on his and they were kissing. And Ernst was kissing back, but only for a second.  
“Oh my God,” he gasped, pulling back and touching his lips, where Hanschen’s had been moments ago.   
“Mm, I know,” Hanschen sighed, pulling Ernst back in. Ernst melted and put his arms on Hanschen’s shoulders as Hanschen put his hands on Ernst’s back. Hanschen tasted like fireworks and ice cream, like going to the beach and going to sleep, like alcohol and salt, like a smile or looking at the moon. And the kiss felt like a rollercoaster and like skydiving, like a firecracker and a match, like the sun on his skin and wonder and getting a good grade on a test. All that mattered in this moment was him and Hanschen. Ernst didn’t care about his Latin test tomorrow. He didn’t care that his friends would ask questions. He didn’t even care about what would happen if someone were to come up here and see him like this. Ernst ended the perfect kiss and pulled back for air, seeing as his lungs had gone numb. He and Hanschen, foreheads pressed together, released hot breaths into the inches between them.  
“What do you want to do when you grow up, Hanschen?” Hanschen stared into Ernst’s eyes questioningly, raising an eyebrow, but Ernst just shrugged.  
“You hopefully,” Hanschen said, leaning in again for another kiss. Ernst blushed profusely, but still pulled away.   
“I thought you just came up here to talk to me, Hanschen,” he stated, speaking truthfully. He wanted to know why someone as amazing as Hanschen Rilow would kiss someone as odd as himself. Hanschen looked hurt, like Ernst had said something really wrong.  
“So are you sorry that we…” he trailed off, with sadness in his voice.   
“No, Hanschen!” Ernst exclaimed. “I love you. I love you as I have never loved anyone.” He told the truth. Hanschen was Ernst’s biggest crush. Hanschen smiled, using only half his mouth.  
“And so you should.”


End file.
